l we come round, and the sail
hangs loose in the wind; now loose the rope, and let it out about a foot;
so, wind it round as it was before. Neatly done! Next, let out the other
sail in the same way and to the same length. It was well executed! Really,
you are destined to become a sailor's wife after all.

DISCIPULA. Marry, I hope so. But why 'after all?'

PISCATOR. Nay, I meant nothing; except, that whereas I formerly thought
you rather affected the land, now I find that you are courageous on the
water; and therefore, I say you deserve a Commodore. Observe now, we are
running more nearly with the wind, and move faster. It is a favorable
breeze; for our fishing-ground is in the south-eastern corner of the lake,
behind that highland which you see yonder; and this blows from the western
quarter. We shall soon be there.

DISCIPULA. Be in no hurry; I am in none. Is it not a fine morning? Those
white, high-flying clouds, rolled up into fleeces like wool, with ragged
patches of the sky between them, above us, and the broad blue bosom of the
lake, with the multitude of little waves leaping up and dancing all over
its surface beneath us, and our boat, in the midst of both sky and water,
gliding calmly along like a bird with his wings spread floating in the
air! Is it not a lovely morning? Yes, yes; I must be a sailor's wife, and
live on the ocean! Or perhaps, rather, a fisherman's wife, and sail on a
lake like this. If I should happen to meet with one of the latter class,
of approved character, somewhat mature in years and grave in demeanor,
kind of disposition and manly of countenance, one who would let me go
sailing with him every day, (of course I am not describing you, Mr.
Piscator,) I think--yes, I am quite certain, that he would content me.

PISCATOR. Nay, nay, my fair young lady, you are pleased to mock! 'Mature
in years and grave in demeanor,' said you? A gallant young sailor for you,
say I! There are many who sigh for the favor which you have so freely
granted me to-day. Ah, you should not jeer.

DISCIPULA. I tell you, Mr. Piscator, none but you for me this day! I am
not going to think of any body but you; for I tell you plainly, I like you
very much.

PISCATOR. Ah, yes, yes; certainly--without doubt, I hope so; surely, why
should you not?

DISCIPULA. And what a beautiful island! The grass grows down almost to the
water's edge, leaving a narrow belt of white sand; how it glistens in the
sun-light! and those half-